I’m one of those boring people who think of Memorial Day weekend as a chance to decorate graves and catch up on genealogy. (As if it were possible to “catch up” on genealogy.)

I have never gone away for Memorial Weekend. It’s just not something I ever did growing up. What we did was cut a lot of rhododendrons, enough to fill the entire trunk of the car, and drive down to the cemetery where most of my dad’s family is buried. There’s no ceremony, although I have often wished we had one. We just put the flowers down, look around, say, “It looks nice,” and go out for breakfast.

We lay flowers for everyone we know, not just military members. Dad is practical. I don’t think it ever entered his mind not to go through these formalities, but he also keeps it simple. I like that about him.

Sometimes…